The Pug of the Opera
by E.M.K.81
Summary: Erik finds a pug puppy he adopts. This little ball of velvet fur turns his life upside down immediately. I just wanted to write something funny and fluffy. Based mostly on Leroux and a bit Kay.
1. Chapter 1

**The Pug of the Opera**

 _Summary: Erik finds a pug puppy he adopts. This little ball of velvet fur turns his life upside down immediately. I just wanted to write something funny and fluffy. Based mostly on Leroux and a bit Kay._

It was one of these cold rainy November nights in 1878. Erik decided to use the bad weather as a chance to go for a walk, he felt imprisoned in the opera house. Since he had moved into the cellars he had sworn to be done with the world, but sometimes his opera became his prison and he just had to go outside. He hated the stares of people, but in this night not many were outside and he was covered with a wide-brimmed hat, a scarf over his mask, a cloak with the collar turned up - in the dim light of the street lamps no one would even notice he wore a mask.

He wandered through the streets, enjoying the clean and fresh air. Not that he disliked the smell of humid earth in the cellars or of the water of the lake, but far too often he missed the smell of cleanliness the rain provided. Wearing warm clothing the coldness did not bother him and he walked the streets with long strides, enjoying his walk. He watched carriages drive by, people walking around and sometimes he even stopped to look at something in a shop-window. Not that he needed anything, he felt like he already had gathered much more than he could ever use in his life, but if he liked something he would want to have it. He had a rather large collection of trinkets just because he found them beautiful. He had by far too much clothing, sometimes he scolded himself for his vanity behaving like a spoiled woman demanding new clothing, new shoes, new accessories without any need for them. And then he found he had two of the same kind because he had forgotten he had already purchased than. Well, if the next war would come eventually he had more than enough if he wanted to survive.

When he came through elegant quarters he suddenly heard a noise like the whining of a lost puppy. Looking around he found a wet tiny puppy next to a garden stone wall. It sat there, wailing heart-wrenching. Erik could not help bending down to see the tiny thing. It was a fawn puppy of one of the lapdogs old ladies loved. A pug. It immediately stopped wailing when Erik reached out to caress the tiny round head and waggled its tail happily. It sniffed his fingers, making a funny noise that sounded like a staccato snore, then it began licking Erik's fingers. He laughed and picked it up.

As he turned the puppy around he noticed it was a male. The wet bundle immediately pressed himself in Erik's hands - he could hold it with one hand - and waggled his curled tail, making noises as if he was trying to talk to Erik. It sounded like someone mumbling quietly to himself.

Erik bend his neck to kiss the soft round head. He had never felt anything as soft as the velvet fur of this little dog and as it snug into his arms he felt like a warm glow was lit in his chest. He could not bring himself to put the dog back onto the cold wet street and leave it so he decided to take it in.

On his way home the pug began to snore in his arms and Erik smiled to himself, calling himself an old fool becoming soft for he already loved this dog, even if it didn't even look like a proper dog, it looked... well, a bit like a cat with the large eyes and the short snout, a bit like a pig with his curled tail. Whatever. Looks do not matter, he of all people should know that. And he felt that the tiny puppy had already taken his heart.

* * *

He reached his flat and put the puppy down on the floor. It sniffed around, moved in circles and left a puddle on the carpet. Erik sighed. "My fault, I should have let you do this outside," he told the dog and went to fetch old newspapers and some rugs to clean up. When he came back he found the puppy had left a dog-doo under his grand piano. Just great. He had to crawl around to clean up and when he was done he saw that the puppy was happily chewing on the couch table. "No! Bad! Bad! Bad!" He yelled and the puppy sat back on his legs and looked up at him with his large brown eyes. Erik couldn't help laughing, this little dog was just too sweet. "I guess you are just hungry, aren't you? Well, let's see what I can find."

He carried the puppy to the kitchen and left it there. As soon as he closed the door behind him he could hear the puppy howling desperately. "I'm back soon," he promised and went to his ice-cellar. Living so deep down underground had its benefits - he owned an ice-cellar where he could store food much longer than everyone else because it was kept cool. He only needed to buy enough ice-blocks in winter and it would be cool all year long.

Erik chose a piece of meat and took it with him. The puppy greeted him enthusiastic as if he had been gone for years and the dog had missed him terribly. Erik laughed and wondered how this tiny bundle of fur could make him laugh so easily. When he cut the meat the dog scratched his legs and wailed. "Yes, yes, I know you are hungry!"

Putting the plate with the meat on the floor was almost impossible. The pug was dancing on his hind legs, trying to catch the plate with his paws, and nearly knocked the plate out of Erik's hands trice as it began eating long before the plate reached the floor. When Erik finally managed to put the plate down it already was half-empty. The dog seemed to inhale the food rather than eating it, he ate so fast, he looked like he was suffocating because he couldn't breathe and swallow at the same time. When he was finished, the pushed the plate around, licking it and the floor, searching for every last crumb even as his belly was round.

Everything about the puppy was round: his head, his belly, his curled tail, even his snout and the black ears seemed to be round, of course the paws too. "Thirsty?" Erik asked as the puppy burped and waggled his tail. He gave him a bowl with water and the puppy gratefully drank - and left a puddle on the floor only moments later, then ran back to the water-bowl and overturned it. "I guess you will be keeping me quite busy," Erik complained and asked himself if taking in a not house-trained puppy was such a good idea. And how could he go for a walk with the dog? It too by far too long to reach the streets and leaving puddles and dog-doo around his flat in the cellars was a risk he could not take. Maybe the dog could learn to use a cat litter tray?

The puppy kept Erik constantly busy that night as he was exploring the flat. Erik had never thought a dog would give him so much to do and he nearly regretted his decision to take it in - but then he sat on his couch, the tiny warm bundle snoring on his lap as he read a book, he forgot everything that had angered him. He just wanted to sit there and listen to the puppy's loud snore forever. Never in his life had he felt so relaxed. "I'll keep you, my boy," he promised, "And I name you Beau."

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 _I hope you like my new story. It is dedicated to my own pug, Guillaume. I'm not sure how regularly I can update, but I will try._


	2. Chapter 2

**The Pug of the Opera**

Erik decided that Beau should sleep in a box on the floor in the kitchen. The problem was, Beau had different plans: As soon as Erik turned off the electric light and tried to leave the kitchen he started wailing in a tone Erik could not endure. He felt like this was some sort of music, it ripped through his body directly into his heart. He could not listen to it, so he moved the box to his bedroom, thinking that the tiny puppy was afraid of being alone - small wonder, it had been abandoned in the streets, so of course it was scared of being abandoned again.

But Beau decided that the box was by far not large enough - even if a German Shepard dog would fit into the box comfortably - and the much larger box - Erik's coffin - would be just right. So he started wailing. "Shut up!" Erik yelled. Beau was silent for a moment, then, just as Erik settled down again, began anew. It was a test of nerves - who had the stronger will and could dominate the other one. But Beau wasn't challenging Erik's superiority, on the contrary, his wailing said "I am such a helpless poor puppy, please help me!" and Erik found he could not let the poor thing suffer like this. Erik thought he had endured the pug's wailing for hours before he finally gave in, in truth it was less than three minutes.

As soon as he lifted Beau into his coffin, which was comfortably padded with a soft mattress, pillows and blankets, the puppy chose the pile of pillows at the head-side of the coffin to curl up and sleep. Erik had to push him away to be able to lay his own head on the pillows and Beau decided that Erik's cheek made the best pillow for his tiny nose. Within moments the puppy was snoring. Erik wondered how Beau had done this - occupied his pillow and using his face as a pillow - without him being angry at all, on the contrary, he loved the soft snoring of the pug and soon fell asleep.

* * *

To be woken at five a.m. in the morning by a puppy licking his nose-hole lovingly.

"Ugh! Beau, no, I don't... mpf!" As soon as he started speaking the puppy turned his loving attention to Erik's mouth, starting to lick that. Erik had to push him away with one hand, wiping the dog's slobber from his face. Beau stared at him with his large puppy eyes, panting happily. Just as Erik tried to sleep again Beau sneezed into Erik's nose-hole. "O God! Just what I needed - pug snot in my nose!" Erik groaned, got up and turned on the light fully. Since in the cellars was eternal darkness he usually left at least one dim light on to make sure he would be able to see when he woke. He put the puppy down on the floor as he took a handkerchief from his nighttable to blow his nose.

When he put the handkerchief away he saw the puppy had left a rather large dog-doo under his organ bench. "You come with me," Erik sighed, picked the puppy up as he went to the bathroom. He needed to relief himself before he could take the puppy to the litter box. This proved to be a bad idea for the puppy took Erik's example as an invitation to leave a puddle on the floor, his tail waggling happily as if he had done something right. "Alright, I get it. Another litter box in the bathroom," Erik sighed as he began cleaning up. The pug constantly following him around, trying to stay between his feet, which made it almost impossible to walk.

* * *

Having Beau in his flat changed Erik's live completely. His usually tidy flat suddenly wasn't tidy, the pug had the habit of exploring everything - and exploring meant he tested everything if it was edible or at least a good toy. Erik was constantly busy keeping the dog from doing something bad or mopping up something. He soon learned that Beau loved him and a sharp "No" was enough to tell the dog that he should not do it while a cheerful "Good" encouraged him to do it again. Beau was a good natured dog who wanted his master to love him - but he seemed to have the same view at rules in general Erik had: As long as no one catches me, everything is allowed.

Unlike Erik the pug never moved noiselessly around. Erik had to laugh as he learned that the little fawn dog was constantly making noises. Beau's claws were clicking on the hardwood floor, Beau was either making a sound like he was mumbling to himself or - if he was sniffing something - some sort of staccato snoring, he was yelping, barking or purring like a cat when he was happy, he might even be burping, sneezing or farting rather loud and when he slept he was snoring and sometimes barking in his sleep when he was having a vivid dream.

There was only one time when the pug was absolutely noiseless - and that was if he was up to something he knew perfectly well was forbidden, like chewing on Erik's violin bow, his shoes, eating the carpet or stealing Erik's used underwear from the laundry basket or of course stealing food. Erik wondered how well this little dog could climb if he wanted to reach some food. Food was the key to everything, the pug would do everything for food and Erik soon realized that he had to be careful not to feed Beau too much.

Erik's life revolved around the puppy from that day on. He had to watch the pug, play with the pug, educate the pug, cuddle the pug - something the puppy never got enough of - feed the pug and help the pug sleep. The little dog could be so tired he fell asleep standing on his feet but he refused to sleep for fear Erik would leave him. Beau would only settle down and sleep when Erik sat down so the pug could sleep on his lap - or at least at his feet on the floor with his tiny head on Erik's slippers.

Erik loved to watch the tiny bundle sleep on his lap. It was the perfect picture of peace and contentment. In moments like that he completely forgot all the trouble and anger the little dog caused, he felt like a warm golden glow of pure love evaporated from the dog and he bathed in its warmth. This dog loved him unconditionally, for this little dog he was the center of the whole universe.

* * *

Very soon the lively puppy became too active to live solely in the flat. He was already using the litter boxes Erik had put up in bathroom, kitchen and bedroom, but Erik soon found he had to find some way to exhaust the dog somehow. He had to go shopping again, but he could not bear to hear the heartbreaking sorrowful howl of the tiny chubby puppy and see the large brown soulful eyes in the wrinkled face when he wanted to leave the flat without the dog.

So he put the dog in a bag and carried him to a shop where he could buy a dog's collar and a leash. He didn't want to risk the puppy getting lost. Beau did not know how to obey yet and was easily distracted and constantly busy exploring everything new.

The shopkeeper stared at him. Well, everyone stared at him. Even covered with the false nose and the false beard he looked ugly. He knew that, every reflection of himself in the windows told him. But when Erik placed the bag on the table and asked for a collar and a leash for that dog, the shopkeeper stared at the dog, then at Erik - and laughed. He laughed until he had tears in his eyes.

"I'm sorry, Monsieur, but... you and this dog make the oddest couple I ever saw," he told Erik, then caressed the tiny dogs head and brought several collars and leashes. "He will grow, so you need more collars."

"How tall?" Erik asked, he knew pugs were lapdogs, so this one wouldn't become much taller.

"About... this size," the man spread his hands, "I guess yours is about two months old, so it will become about trice as heavy. Your wife is completely spoiling him, isn't she?"

Erik said nothing. He had never thought anyone would assume he had a wife. Not that he didn't want to get married - no girl, no woman would ever accept any man so ugly as he was. But it made sense - pugs were considered to be ladie's dogs. Most men preferred larger dogs which could be trained as guard dogs or something like that. Pugs never had any other task in life than being loved. This was something old ladies preferred.

Erik chose some brown leather collars and a brown leather leash. Beau wasn't happy about the collar and immediately began scratching. It became worse when he was on the leash - Beau didn't like wherever Erik was pulling him and resisted with all the strength this tiny puppy had.

Erik felt like the worst torturer as he had to use his strength to pull the puppy with him, but he had to teach Beau to accept the leash, everything else was too dangerous for the dog might run into a carriage, under the hooves of a horse or just run away and he would never find him again.

It took two hours and Erik was close to breaking down and giving in, giving the pug the opportunity to lead him wherever he wanted, when the puppy finally accepted that Erik was the one who decided where to go and trotted obediently beside his master with his tail hanging down. Erik gave a sigh of relief and made sure to praise Beau, he even promised him cheese because he knew Beau loved cheese. At the word "cheese" the pug's head shot up and his tail curled into the cinnamon form it usually had, waggling happily. "I guess you already understand that word. But you do not understand 'sit' or 'stay' or 'quiet'."

Well, he would have to work on that. With enough cheese as reward the pug surely would learn to obey simple commands.


	3. Chapter 3

**The Pug of the Opera**

The weeks that followed convinced Erik that it was not he who trained Beau but Beau who trained him. Beau was a very cooperative and clever dog as long as Erik offered enough cheese as 'payment' for obedience. As soon as he ran out of cheese, the dog turned round and ignored his commands and began playing.

Beau learned to obey "here" - he looked at Erik and came only when Erik showed him a tiny piece of cheese. If Erik had nothing for him, he ignored the command. The same with the commands "sit" or "stay". Only praise and cuddling by his owner was not enough to motivate Beau to play along. With enough cheese he soon even learned "fetch" and "bow" and "shake hands".

The puppy grew at tremendous speed. Sometimes Erik got the impression that the dog had grown larger overnight. And the puppy kept Erik busy - wiping up the mess that sometimes just happened when the pug was too busy playing and then didn't manage to reach the litter box in time, rescuing his various possessions like shoes, carpets, the violin - yes, the pug chewed on Erik's violin bow, this was the only time Erik really yelled at the small bundle of fur and nearly hit Beau, but when Beau curled into a tiny ball, crying out in fear and shame and looked at Erik with those sad, large puppy-eyes Erik could not do it. But the dog learned that if he wanted to chew at something he could easily pick Erik's slippers or shred yet another shirt to pieces, but never the music instruments.

The couch table looked like very large wood worms had chewed up its edges... but Erik was too late, when he found Beau he was sleeping peacefully in a bowl on the couch table. Erik had to laugh so much at the sight, he absolutely forgot to punish Beau for chewing at the table.

Erik's once tidy flat was no longer tidy. The furniture looked like gigantic wood-worms had held a feast there. The carpets and rugs had spots from where the puppy had left a mess - be it a puddle, dog-doo or vomit. The little one had no idea when to stop eating so unfortunately he was sick quite often until Erik learned that it was his job to take care the dog would not eat too much. Like all pugs Beau loved to wipe his non-existent nose at the furniture, leaving snot and dark spots everywhere. He loved to sleep in the laundry basket, especially in the freshly ironed shirts. He loved to hide some stinking old bones where Erik would only find them by smell - and often wondered how Beau had managed to squeeze into this place! He found stinking chewing bones in his cupboard between his shirts, in his shoes, even in his bed and in one of the larger pipes of his organ.

But all was forgotten when the tiny soft furball curled up on his lap and began to snore. Whatever the dog had done that day - as soon as he was asleep on Erik's lap, Erik could not help feeling contend and loved. He loved this little thing so much, he even accepted that a tiny pug puppy could take up two third of his coffin, which was as large as a normal bed, and he had to lay in some awkward position so he would not disturb Beau's peaceful slumber. He accepted that the puppy knew perfectly well when he had to give him food and the puppy always ate before him. When he ate his own food, Beau stared at him accusingly, waiting for Erik to take the last bite and leaving a tiny portion for Beau so the dog would at least know he would get something from his master and not envy him.

Eventually Erik found the little dog was tireless. He got up at about 5 a.m. and was constantly running around, eating, chewing something, hiding something, trying to dig a hole - which was annoying when it happened in the cupboard - or playing or asking Erik to play with him. Only in the evening around 9 p.m. he got tired and went to sleep, Erik usually did the same, just collapsing into his bed. The little puppy wore him out completely. He had to do something about this, he had a growing male dog who needed something to do.

When the pug grew he sometimes suffered flatulences - which resulted in a terrible stench and sometimes a few brown drops from his anal gland on Erik's clothing or furniture. The pug usually farted when he was lying on Erik's pillow - then looked at his master accusingly with raised eyebrows which looked irresistible cute in his wrinkled face and moved to the other side of the coffin-bed because there the smell was better. Erik tried to scold him, but in the end he could only laugh, at least until the puppy decided to playfully nibble at his toes which was rather painful given the needle-sharp baby-teeth.

Finally Erik decided to take the dog by the collar and the leash and go for long walks. Unfortunately he had to do that in daytime for the dog wanted to sleep at night and Erik did not have the heart to disturb the peaceful slumber of the beloved little baby. In some ways he regarded the pug as his baby boy now, wondering how this furball had done this to him.

Erik hated going out at daytime. The harsh light of the sun not only hurt his eyes despite the wide-brimmed hat he wore, it also revealed his ugliness even more. Erik was after decades of working on his disguise a master make-up artist. He wore a false nose and a false beard and tried to conceal his discolored skin with a certain kind of powder that left him looking pale and ill but not as ugly as he really was. But even in this disguise people kept staring rudely or bolting at his sight, even nearly jumping before a carriage in their shock to see someone so ugly so close to them. Especially adolescent boys from lower social classes liked to call him names openly while the people of higher classes were too well educated to do so - they whispered among themselves that he looked like he came directly back from the grave.

He knew that these mockery was quite correct - he really looked like a corpse and yes, he was disgusted at his own sight - and that made it only more painful. Not as painful as young men making a sports of it to attack him, throwing stones and dirt, some trying to hit him or push him from the sidewalk, hissing something like "out of my way, freak". Erik endured this, because he knew that if he tried to fight back the bored bystanders could become a violent mob immediately and they would turn against him, only seeing an ugly freak attacking nice young boys, no matter what they did to him before.

He was worried what they would say if they saw him with a dog puppy - he was much more worried about Beau's safety than his own. Soon it turned out that Beau had a somewhat nice effect: people looked more at the dog than at him. Some called the dog "ugly", "looking like a fat maggot" but others found him irresistible cute - and Beau reacted very well to their attention. Since Erik used the word "cute" so much around Beau, Beau always waggled his cinnamon roll formed tail and made happy noises that sounded like staccato snoring when someone said "cute" - even if the word cure did definitely not refer to Beau.

Especially girls and ladies found the pug nice, some even dared to approach Erik and ask if they were allowed to pet his wonderful dog. This was a completely new experience for Erik. There were people - mostly women - who approached him because they wanted to pet his pug - and pug graciously accepted their admiration.


	4. Chapter 4

**The Pug of the Opera**

After three months Erik wondered how he had been able to survive without hearing an opera or a concert for such a long time. He had been so busy with Beau that he had completely forgotten to go to the opera.

The Phantom of the Opera was a rumor among the theater folk, but it was a harmless ghost. No crimes were committed. Erik lived a comfortable life without doing anything. The money he needed he earned by stealing from people at the opera, then dressing as normal workman and going to them to return their property and wait for a finder's reward. Those who paid him for returning their watches, wallets or jewelry he left in peace, those who didn't would find that the next time they lost something at the Opera no one would come to return it to them. Since Erik found almost everything he needed in the Opera house he did not need much money except for going shopping and buying box five.

Box five was specially constructed by himself with a secret passageway. There was a hollow column with a ladder so Erik could climb up almost directly from the catacombs. He preferred not to meet anyone when he came to see a performance.

Now he discussed with himself if he could go there. Leaving Beau alone was no option, the pug started whining in a heart-wrenching tone as soon as Erik tried to leave the flat alone. But could he take a dog with him? He tried to play music on his own instruments to get Beau used to music. Beau was perfectly fine with that. He usually lay on a pile of pillows chewing a dried pig's ear or just slept and ignored Erik tuning instruments or playing or composing. Erik decided to give it a try. He bought a large leather bag with a sling he could wear around his shoulder, padded it with rugs and placed Beau inside.

He carried Beau around in the opera late at night when no one was there. Beau behaved well, as long as he was in the bag he was quiet, he only wanted to be able to see what Erik was doing but Erik could carry Beau with him on every ladder, crawl through every tiny opening, even take him to the rooftop - Beau immediately marked the rooftop as his territory like all male dogs do - and Erik watched highly amused. He didn't know why but he was proud that Beau lifted his leg to pee. Beau was a real male and that pleased Erik somehow.

So Erik decided to take Beau with him finally. He made sure to feed the pug and go for a walk before he put him in the bag and went to his box. Beau was relaxed. Only when Erik put down the bag Beau started sniffing around in the box, marked the box much to Erik's annoyance - what would the cleaning team think? - and then scratched Erik's leg, wanting to be lifted to his lap. Erik sighed and lifted the pug, wondering how that tiny furball had gained weight. Beau curled up in the comfortable cussioned chair beside Erik, moving around until Erik left the chair and took the one beside Beau. He did not think much about that now, he was used to Beau wanting to sit precisely where he had just seconds ago.

The pug ignored the tuning of the instruments, the ouverture of Norma and the whole first act. In the middle of the first act he began to snore so loud, Erik was afraid the people in the other boxes would hear him. They did and some ladies made commends about a man in the other box being fast asleep - and added that he surely wasn't the only one.

During the second act Beau's tiny head suddenly came up, Beau jumped to his feet and began to howl like a wolf. He howled, then his soft flews came in his way so the howl didn't sound like "Aoooooo" like other dogs did but more like "Aoooopf aoooopfpf aooopf" and turned into barking.

"Hush! Silence! Down!" Erik tried to command - but since he had no cheese the pug ignored him completely. Erik tried to silence the pug, clasping his hand over the tiny snout but that did not silence the dog in any way. Erik had no choice but placing Beau in the bag and carrying him downstairs.

"Now what was that?" he scolded the pug as they made their way through the dark corridors of the cellar, "You were behaving perfectly well - and then suddenly you made a scene! What's wrong with you?"

Erik wondered if Beau was somehow hurt but the pug behaved perfectly that evening, slept well at night and the next day Beau woke him slobbering over his face and sneezing in his nose-hole like he did every day.

They went shopping. Beau knew the way. First to the vegetable shop, then to the dairy, the grocery, the newspaper kiosk, the bakery and at last to the butcher's. Beau of course loved the butcher's and especially the butcher's wife who stood at the counter and always had a bit of liver sausage for him. Erik could never pass the butcher's without going inside - with Beau pulling him on the leash behind him, the pug was astonishingly strong by now - and buy something because he felt bad if the butcher's wife showered Beau in treats and he bought nothing. The woman and the pug - Erik always wondered if they were somehow related they looked so alike!

Leading the pug on the leash was fun now that the pug patiently allowed him to attatch the leash to the collar, then Beau took the leash in his mouth and with his round head held high and his curled tail proudly waggling he lead his master. Erik noticed that the people he passed laughed even harder at the off couple, but he had to admit that they were a funny sight when he saw their reflection in a window - the fawn pug with the leash in his mouth leading Erik purposeful from one shop to the other. Even Erik himself had to laugh at the sight.

At home Erik prepared their lunch - the pug knew the time Erik had to stand in the kitchen and cook and if Erik decided not to Beau would start pushing his legs with his paws and barking at him, trying to drive him to the kitchen like a sheperd dog would drive sheep.

After they had their lunch, Erik sat in the parlor, Beau snoring peacefully on the couch, and played the violin. Why didn't the pug bark now? Why had Beau been so calm during the first act and made such a szene in the second? Erik decided to give it a try and played a note that was slightly off. Only a tiny bit, not every person would have noticed, only musicians would. Beau's head snapped up and he gave Erik an irritated look, turned his head from side to side - Erik grinned at that, it was too cute to watch - and listened carefully. As Erik deliberately added a few other wrong tunes Beau started barking and howling.

During the following days Erik tested it and found out that Beau had the absolute hearing. Whenever something was off, even the tiniest mistake, the pug would notice and start howling. Erik knelt down on the carpet to embrace his pug, hugging him gently as the dog licked his ears, "How wonderful! You have the absolute hearing, my boy! O I am so proud of you! Daddy is so very proud of you!" Erik called himself Beau's daddy since the dog had become a surrogate child to him.

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 _Thank you for reading. Please review!_

 _This story will be updated rather irregularly. I hope you will follow it nevertheless._


	5. Chapter 5

**The Pug of the Opera**

After finding out that Beau had the perfect pitch Erik decided to use that. He would visit the opera more often, just to find out if that would improve the quality. He was well aware that most people in the audience did not come here for the qulity of music.

As Garnier had explained his design for the Foyer with the grand marble staircase and the small boxes: This opera had two auditoriums and two stages. One stage was for the singers and the boxes for the patrons who enjoyed music - and the second stage was for the vain peacocky men and women. Aristocrats and bourgeoisie, the people who gave vanity a new meaning. It seemed the French Revolution had not taught humanity any lesson at all. They tried to present themselves, outshining each other, waiting for the applause. And there was applause, a kind of applause, as people really used the marble boxes in the Foyer to stand and watch the people who presented themselves on the staircaise. Of course the staircase was perfect for showing off.

But Erik loved music and wanted to hear it in the best possible quality. He had a strong disliking against everything that was less than perfect. Of course he knew that there was always some personal interpretation in the performance - each conductor had his own ideas, each soloist had his own ideas. So of course the performances weren't entirely the same. But they had to be true to what the composer originally created and laziness and lack of skill was something that made Erik cringe in pain. It could really cause him physical pain to hear a bad performance.

So visiting the opera and hearing the pug point out the mistakes with unfailing precision made him proud of his little friend. As long as Beau was snoring, everything was alright. And when Erik felt something was wrong, Beau would start howling immediately. Of course the managers were angry. It was not allowed to bring pets to the opera - unless these animals were needed on stage. So they began trying to find out who the man was who brought the dog - they could assume it was a dog but not the race - to the performances. They told the box keepers to pay attention to who would bring a bag with him that was large enough to hide a small dog. They kept watching the arrival of the guests themselves. But of course they never caught Erik who had his secret entrance through the column.

Erik really loved that. He loved to spy on them to hear them discussing how they could get rid of the howling dog that was interrupting too many performances. It was no problem to take Beau with him in the bag when they were watching the managers. Beau was happy to be with Erik and just curled up on his lap and snored away. Well, the snoring could be a problem because sometimes it was so loud the managers heard him and wondered wo was snoring in their office.

Erik faced another problem. He had a young healthy male dog - the pug needed at least three long walks a day or he would turn Erik's flat upside down more than Erik could tolerate. But leaving the opera was dangerous. He could be seen and someone might ask why he was there. Without the dog Erik had left the opera house mostly at night, but now he had to go for a walk with the dog at days. His solution to the problem was as easy as it was expensive: He knew where to break a wall and build in a hidden door to reach the catacombs. From there he knew he could even reach cellars under some normal buildings nearby. Erik picked a block of flats that was the closest and therefor the easiest to reach - a block of flats in the Boulevard des Capucines.

The idea was easy. Like most buildings there was a cellar and in that cellar were basement apartments. These were much cheaper than the normal flats, they could be rent or even bought. Buying such basement appartment and building in a hidden door to the catacombs was perfect. If he rent the basement flat officially, no one would ever wonder why he came out of that cellar regularly because he was supposed to live there. Unfortunately he would have to decorate the flat so it looked like a real flat, should some nosy people decide to look through the windows. There were windows, they were small and one could only see the feet of people on the sidewalk or in the backyard, depending on which appartment he would get. Upon further inspection of the catacombs and seeing the cellar - Erik just broke into one house to find out if his calculations were correct - he found the perfect basement flat. It was tiny, but the house was a modern one with indoor plumbing, with running water and gas. The basement appartment consisted of just one room, about sixteen squaremeters large and a tiny antechamber. In that chamber was a sink and running water. The toilet was on the other side of the corridor and the people living in the basement appartments would have to share the toilets, at least there was more than one. But this did not really matter, Erik had absolutely no intention of really living there.

As good as the idea was - the basement flat was already rented out to a family with three little children. Erik had to find a way to get them to move, but how? He could not simply kill them. Not that killing was out of option and he considered it, but eventually decided he would only kill if all other measures failed. The first attempt was to frighten them away by placing a human skull he stole from the catacombs before their door.

The police was called and found that it was a very old skull. They decided this was the immature prank of some teenage boys and told the people not to worry about that. Erik was angry for he hated it when his plan was a failure. That policeman had ruined it by convincing everybody that this was just a harmless prank by some boy.

His next attempt to frighten them away was to get a bucket full of dead rats from the ratcatcher and leave them in the cellar. But this failed too - the people who lived in the basement flats were far too happy to have a flat close to their workplaces to even consider moving out because of some pranks, they just cleaned the dead rats out and kept silent, not wanting the inhabitants of the flats in the upper floors to know about that little problem. In the flats in the first floor and above lived upper class families. These flats had windows that let sun in and were large, they had every luxury a family could hope for, and these flats were large, about 80 to 100 squaremeters.

But Erik needed the basement flat because of its access to the catacombs! Directly behind the wall was a forgotten passageway, it was perfect, so he wanted this flat and nothing else. But how to get rid of the family there? They didn't move out of their own accord. They couldn't - they were far too happy to have that flat!

Erik sat in his underground home, busy constructing a small wooden chair that would allow Beau to climb in and out of his bed-coffin whenever he wanted. Erik was tired of being woken several times at night because the pug wanted him to lift him out of the bed or into the bed. He would just build a wooden staircase and then Beau would come and go as he wanted to without disturbing Erik's sleep - at least Erik hoped it would be like this.

"And what are we to do now?" he asked Beau who was sitting on a pile of dirty laundry Erik had put aside to wash eventually. Beau loved to sit on dirty laundry and turned his head looking at Erik curiously. The pug always gave the impression of listening to his master and understanding every word, especially when he was looking at him and turning his head from time to time. "My idea was to annoy them enough, but that seems quite difficult, and I do not want to hurt them. So what can I do?"

The pug gave a whine and went to Erik, scratching on his leg, clearly wanting to be picked up and sleep on Erik's lap. Erik bent down to pet the pug. "I have no time for that now," he explained, "Go to sleep."

The pug went back to the pile of laundry, began to dig in it like he was digging a hole in the ground, then turned round several times and lied down with a grunt. "I can't just ask, can I?" Erik asked to dog. Beau yawned and grunted. "Well... maybe I can ask. Maybe I can ask the landlord to throw them out and give me the flat. That would do the least harm, I guess."

The landlord was startled when his servant announced a strange man with a funny dog wanted to see him. Erik was dressed in an expensive suit, indicating he was a rather wealthy man, he wore a false nose and a false beard to make his appearance acceptable. He still looked like an overdressed scarecrow. Erik hated talking to people, he really hated that. He never knew how to introduce himself, how to behave so they would agree to do what he wanted to ask - he knew he lacked social skills. So he decided to greet the man with a slight bow, taking off his hat and introducing himself with the alias he currently used. He was "Erik Cordier" now. Cordier is just the french word for ropemaker, an unsuspicious name, everyone expected him to be from a family of ropemakers like many others with similar names.

Erik knew better than to offer his hand - usually people who saw him avoided touching him, suspecting him to suffer from some illness they didn't want to catch. He knew that usually he should be offered a seat but that too was something he was already used to - people didn't want him to touch their furniture more than necessary.

That moment the landlord's daughters came into his parlor and all they saw was Beau. "A PUUUUUG!" they exclaimed happily and ran to Beau who was tearing at his leash, trying to get to the children. He loved children even more than adults because playing was fun.

"You could have asked if you are allowed..." their father tried to berate them but he had to smile at the girls who just took off the collar from Beau and the pug jumped up and down in excitement.

Within moments the pug had snatched a ribbon from one of the girls and they were chasing him around. Erik and the landlord could only stand by and watch, both men laughing, not knowing who should apologize to whom for the behavior of the dog and the girls.

It took some time until the girls and the dog were tired enough that Erik and their father could have any kind of normal conversation. While the girls sat on the couch with Beau and dressed him in a doll's dress, which he endured patiently, Erik was offered a seat and a glass of water. It was an alien experience for Erik to be offered any kind of hospitality and he accepted awkwardly, giving the impression of being extremely shy.

"I understand that you want to rent one of my flats. But why this one? Surely you could afford another? I have one in the second floor..."

That was what Erik had been afraid of. He couldn't tell the truth that it was perfect because he needed access to the catacombs. "Actually... I am a musician and in the past lost some flats because the neighbors didn't appreciate me practicing all day long. I thought that a basement appartment would be better because the tennants wouldn't hear me play."

"The tennants in the basement appartments... Monsieur, you know they are... well, lower working class. Maids, servants, workers. And all of them reproduce at a rate that puts rabbits to shame."

Erik didn't know how to reply to this. He just sat there and looked at Beau who now wore many colorful ribbons and was lying on his back enjoying a belly rub from the girls happily. "I know. But they seldom complain about me playing all day long," he replied, "They are far too loud themselves."

The landlord laughed. "On that we agree. But Monsieur, the basement appartment you want is not free now. The tennants have a contract for two more years unless they fail to pay. I can't just throw them out."

"Not even if I agree to pay more than they do?"

"Well... legally no. I can't. But maybe they accept to move out if you pay for the... relocation? These people can't handle money and are always broke. Usually money does the trick and then I'd gladly give you that appartment."

That moment the pug farted and the girls made a show of being disgusted. Erik couldn't help laughing. "I am so sorry, Monsieur. The constant belly-rubbing does that to him..."

 _XXXXXXX_

 _I said I'd update irregularly..._

 _So now Erik is happy to have a pug and faced with completely different problems._


	6. Chapter 6

**The Pug of the Opera**

Erik soon realized that his idea to rent a flat left him with a new problem: Unlike the money he had to pay to the family to get them to move out, a rent is paid monthly. His usual habit of stealing jewelry from rich women and returning them the next day asking finder's fee proved inefficent in this. It was good if he needed some money, but it was certainly no reliable income.

He needed a reliable income without having to do anything for it. The easiest way was to take what he needed from the safe in the manager's office. Bank accounts were something only for rich people so no one except the highest ranking employees had one. Everyone else got the money in cash either weekly or monthly. So of course at the end of the month there was lots of money in the safe so the employees could be paid. And each evening there was the money from the ticket counter.

Why not take what he needed from the opera? He didn't consider this as theft because the opera was the Paris Opera and of course there were not only wealthy patrons but the Republic of France had great interest that it would have enough money so the ministry of cultural affairs would provide money if needed. He wasn't really stealing - he was just taking something like almost every corrupt man in the government did. Every business owned by the state was a cash-cow for corrupt men. If everyone did that, why not he? Why not take a monthly salary like everyone else? And Erik considered himself quite modest, having to pay only for a cheap flat and what little he needed. It was no more than any secretary earned.

At first he took a bit more money because he wanted to buy used furniture for the flat. Should anyone look into the flat, there should be a bed, a cupboard, a table and two chairs. Even a small upright piano, used, but well-tuned, was there. There was no need for more because the basement flat was so small so with the little metal wood-burning stove and the sink with a faucet and running cold water there was no space for anything else. The room was cramped and Erik wondered how a family could have lived there - it was small even for one man alone. And he didn't really live there, he just used it as entrance to the catacombs from where he could go to the cellars of the opera when he wanted to go out at daytime.

Erik's and Beau's life became very comfortable and quiet. They didn't get up before noon, once Erik tried, but Beau decided he would have none of it. Erik picked him up and put him on the floor to give him collar and leash, but Beau decided it was too early to get up and ran up the little wooden staircaise, jumped into the coffin and hid under one of the pillows. Erik laughed and snatched him, but as soon as the tiny paws touched the ground the pug started a chase through the flat that left both of them breathless - and two vases in pieces.

With a sigh Erik began picking up the pieces and cleaning the mess. He would put flovers only on the higher shelves from now on, not on the couchtable. When he was finished he noticed that Beau had found a new game - emptying trash baskets and scatter the trash around all over the room. And tear up papers. Tear papers in tiny shreds, leave them everywhere, swallow some of it... and the pug was sick. Of course Beau was sick after eating the paper. He was sick under the bed in the Louis Phillippe room while Erik was busy cleaning the livingroom.

It took Erik a rather long time to locate the pug's vomit by sniffing. Erik could not sniff like normal people can because one needs nasal wings to be able to sniff. So finding out from which point in the room the nasty smell came was quite difficult, but Erik had to do this to avoid his whole flat stinking of dog's vomit.

When Erik was finally done cleaning up the pug's mess he found the little pug sleeping peacefully on the pile of ironed shirts he had wanted to put into the cupboard. And the dog must have farted for on one of the now crupled shirts - the pug had build some kind of nest of the shirts - was a brown spot like a stamp from the pug's anal gland. Erik wanted to be angry but when he saw how peacefully Beau slept he couldn't. He couldn't scold him. He could only laugh and began putting his trash baskets up on the cupboards - out of Beau's reach.

Then Beau demanded his food before he would agree to a go for a walk. So Erik did prepare their meal - in this case chicken. They usually ate the same food, Erik just added spices and salt after cooking and giving Beau his meal. So chicken, carrots and rice for Beau and Erik, spices only for Erik. And Beau insisted on being allowed to lick off Erik's plate before Erik could wash the dishes. Erik wondered how this tiny bundle of fur that was licking off his plate with abandon, his curly tail waggling, making happy noises, had trained him so well without him even knowing.

But he found soon that he had succeeded in training the pug to use the litter box far too well - the pug insisted in using the box before going for a walk. Erik sighed. He couldn't scold Beau for doing something he had trained him to do, that would be unfair, but it was somehow annoying. But then... what could he do against it? The pug had to answer nature's call eventually and it was by far preferable to have him do it in the litter box than leaving a trail in the catacombs that might lead some investigator to his flat.

So whenever Erik put on his false nose and beard to make himself look somehow endurable, the pug knew they would be going out shortly and went to the litter box. Erik could only laugh at this very reasonable behavior from Beau.

* * *

When he locked the door behind himself in the basement of the block of flats he heard a woman scolding her daughter: "No, you can not pet his dog! Don't you see what kind of man that is? Just look at him - he is ugly as sin! He has a dog race only girls like! He uses that dog to lure girls into his flat and do unspeakable things to them!"

"But the dog..." the girl obviously had only eyes for Beau who was waggling his tail and pulling on his leash to get to her to get cuddled.

"Don't look at the dog! This breed is supposed to be cute! Look at the man - this Monsieur Cordier is not a good man! Just look at his face, then you know all about him! He might think dressing in fine suits would cover what rotten scoundrel he is!"

"Madame, I am not deaf. If you want to talk like this behind my back you should at least lower your voice!" Erik snapped coldly, remembering why he had chosen to live under the opera. But he couldn't use any of the opera's entrances now without being spotted and since the managers were already searching for a man with a dog they might suspect him to be the one who smuggled the pug into the opera. Of course the box was not rent by "Erik Cordier" but by "Hector Taupe". Taupe is the French word for mole. A fitting name for a man who lived underground, Erik thought bitterly.

But sometimes he needed to go out at daytime and didn't want to be seen leaving the opera to avoid suspection. He couldn't think of any other way than a basement flat.

The woman gave Erik the evil eye and hissed: "If you ever touch my daughter, I'll kill you."

Erik shook his head, not wanting to fight any more. He had done nothing to deserve this, he had never harmed a child - well, at least not voluntarily - since the day he considered himself an adult. "Come on, Beau, they are bad company," he said and pulled Beau with him. Beau let his curled tail fall lose and hung his head, a picture of sadness. Erik bent down to pet him when they were on the sidewalk. "Come on, Beau, don't be sad - not everyone loves you. They aren't worth your attention. Come on boy - curly tail! Curly tail!" Erik knew that the pug's tail showed him very well how his pug felt. Usually the tail was curled up, indicating that the pug was happy.

"Now that is a cute dog!" he heard a young woman exclaim, "May I pet him?"

"Of course, Mademoiselle." Erik smiled. The pug attrackted much attention from women - so much that they tended to overlook Erik's ugliness to a certain point.

The dog and the blonde girl in the grey dress greeted each other as if they had been friends forever. Beau jumped up to give her a pug's kiss on the cheek, she caressed him with both hands as she was in squatting position, though Erik could not be sure of that because of her wide skirt that hid her legs and their position entirely.

The young woman started talking nonsense like "You are so cute, so cute such a cute puppy puppy puppy! Who's a cute puppy? Wanna kiss?" While Beau was getting more and more excited, rolling on his back to present her his soft belly begging for a belly-rub - which she did immediately - Erik noticed that the woman had a nice voice as she was in this childish impromptu singsong.

"You should caress his ears," Erik advised with a smile.

The girl complied and squeaked in delight. "I've never felt something so soft!" Beau obviously liked the girl for he leaned his head into her hands to encourage her to caress his ears. The girl bent down as if to kiss Beau and said with a happy grin: "You are the cutest puppy in the world!" Beau purred like a content cat in his happiness. "You don't have a nose, you little cute baby!"

Erik smiled at how soon the girl had gone from "dog" to "baby". It had taken him a few weeks until he regarded the pug as his baby. But when she said that the dog had no nose - he had one, only a very short one for a dog - Erik flinched and involuntarily touched his false nose and beard to make sure they were still in place. They were.

Precisely that moment Beau sneezed - right into her face. "Oh, you just demonstrated it!" the young woman giggled, "You do have a nose!"

"I'm sorry," Erik felt obligued to apologize and handed her a clean handkerchief, "I should have warned you that he has no manners."

"Never mind," the girl didn't even look at him as she cleaned her face, she stayed in the huddled position and continued to pet Beau with one hand. Erik wondered if the woman had realized that he was there or if she regarded him like a tree the pug was tied to.

Only when the woman got up again - and Beau grunted annoyed and scratched her skirt to get her attention again - she looked at Erik when she handed him the handkerchief. She flinched a bit at the sight of his face and there was a frown, but she managed to force a smile soon, even if she was a bit pale now. "Thank you, Monsieur. You must think me a complete fool, but I always wanted a pet - only I can't afford one right now."

"No, certainly not, Mademoiselle," Erik said, tipping his hat. He should take the hat off, but he didn't dare because he wasn't sure if taking off the hat would make his appearance worse. "Beau is always happy to get the attention from such a beautiful lady."

He realized this was a mistake when the woman retreated from him instead of thanking for the compliment. Obviously she wondered if he was trying to flirt with her - well, yes, he was - and his attempt was certainly not welcome. "I beg your forgiveness," Erik sighed and gave a bow. Unfortunately the knowledge that he was less than human was beaten into him with such force over the decades, he instinctively apologized when he noticed women were uncomfortable in his presence. He felt like he had to apologize for being alive.

"O, no, I am sorry," she said with an embarrassed smile, remembering her manners. That man was the ugliest man she had ever seen, but she reminded herself that it was not his fault he looked like that. Maybe he was ill and suffering and she should not treat him cruelly because of the way he looked. She had no idea just how horrible he really looked and what she was seeing was the masked and covered face.

Beau ended the awkward moment because he was bored and just shuffled under the skirt of the woman. Erik was very jealous of him now - the pug got the attention and cuddles from so many beautiful women and now he could even crawl under the skirt of this young lady. "No!" Erik exclaimed and pulled Beau back on the leash, turning to the girl again, who was blushing. "I am so sorry, Mademoiselle, this is most embarrassing... I... I am deeply sorry. Please tell me how I can make up for this fauxpas?"

She smiled. "O don't mind that... I'm sorry, I have to go now."

"Then I won't keep you..." While Erik bowed politely Beau snatched the hem of her skirt and began pulling on it. "No! Beau! Stop that!" Erik had to pick Beau up and hold him in his arms before the bundle of fur could cause more awkward situations. "I apologize. Should Beau have ruinied your dress, I'll pay for the damage."

"No need, Monsieur...?" The way she pronounced this made quite clear she was asking for his name. She was asking for his name! Erik was reeling, suddenly he couldn't remember his current alias, not one of them! A woman asked for his name!

"My... my... name is Cordier," he finally managed, "Mademoiselle...?"

"Christine Daae."


	7. Chapter 7

**The Pug of the Opera**

 _I have to apologize for not updating in months. At 4th of November 2017 my own pug died of old age and I could not bring myself to continue this story sooner. Of course I want to continue it and eventually finish it in memory of my beloved pug!_

Erik couldn't forget Christine Daae and berated himself for not asking more about her. He knew her name, but that was all. He didn't know where she lived, if she was married or not, if she had a job or not, he knew nothing! Beau didn't mind. He found new friends whenever he left the house, there always were girls or women who wanted to pet him. Men usually laughed at the odd duo Erik and Beau, but even some men found Beau nice and asked Erik if a pug was a good pet for their wifes or children wanted a pet.

They were on their way back from Erik's favorite tailor - the tailor had complained about Beau shedding hair everywhere over the shop and Erik had to pay quite a sum to win back his favor - and Erik shook his head wondering why he was such an idiot, the tailor's daughter had offered to him to make a suit for Beau matching Erik's own dress suit for an exorbitant price but seeing how much the girl loved the pug Erik had agreed. "I am such an old fool!" he berated himself, deciding he would need to get more money. A dress suit for a pug! He must be completely mad!

It was daylight and there were many people in the streets. A man came closer to Erik, then, as he saw Beau jumped aside in shock. "What's that?" the man asked in a funny accented French that made Erik's heart skip several beats. Erik felt like he had just seen a ghost - well, not seen, heared. The man didn't look like he remembered him, but his bass voice was one Erik would never forget. The voice had given him his life back when he had waited for his execution.

"This is a pug, you fool!" Erik snapped in Farsi that was now tainted with a terrible French accent.

Now the other man looked like he was suffering a heart attack. He had to lean against the wall, struggling for breath. The Daroga, for it was him, could not believe what he saw before him. Not that he recognized the face, Erik had not had the prostetics in Persia, with the false beard and false nose Erik looked very different than he had in his youth when he had usually been wearing mask.

Erik smiled. "It is a pug, his name is Beau," Erik explained with a smile, picking up Beau and holding him in his arms. Beau waggled his tail and reached out with his paws to the Daroga. "You can touch him."

"Is that a dog or a pig?" the Daroga asked with a disgusted shudder. Both animals were considered impure and this weird mix of both animals... well, it did fit its master somehow.

Now Erik was really insulted. "Never call my lovely Beau a pig again if you value your life!"

The Daroga had to laugh. They had not seen each other in more than twenty years, both considering each other dead and after learning that they were both alive, not only alive but in the same city, it took less than one minute for Erik to be back to threatening his life. "I missed you too..." he gasped between laughing and trying to catch his breath.

"Now apologize to Beau for insulting him," Erik grumbled. Beau squirmed on his arms and did not look in any way insulted, he tried to reach the Daroga and was licking in the air as he tried to lick the Persian's face. Erik stepped closer to his friend and held the pug up. The Daroga could not escape the pug's enthusiastic kisses. Erik laughed. The Daroga's rather helpless attempt to get away was too funny. When he decided to put Beau back on the sidewalk, Beau rushed to the Daroga, jumped up on him, whining to get his attention.

The Daroga wiped his face and looked down, seeing the pug's wrinkled face, his large brown eyes and the waggling cinnamon-shaped tail. He smiled. This fawn little pug looked like he was the opposite of Erik. Erik looked like he was starving, the dog was rather round, Erik was reclusive and paranoid, the dog seemed to love the whole world. The pug was so enthusiastic greeting the Daroga, the Persian felt his heart opening up to the small furball. He bent down to pet him, touch the silky ears and had to smile at the pug's stakkato snoring.

"He likes you," Erik explained, "But that is nothing new - he loves everyone."

"Let's not talk here on the street," the Daroga offered, "Come to me and have tea."

* * *

It did not take long until the Daroga regretted inviting Erik. Erik took the pug with him and as the door was closed he released him from the leash. Maybe half a second later Darius yelled something and came from the kitchen to ask his master for help to expell the animal. He nearly fainted when he saw that his master had invited a guest.

"Darius, bring us some tea," the Daroga instructed him, "Do you remember how Erik takes his tea?"

The servant had to sit down on the floor or he would have fallen. First this unidentified animal in his kitchen and then the frightening magician-assassin of his nightmares. Erik helpfully went to the kitchen to fetch a glass of water for the poor servant, the man clearly needed it now. Beau decided being alone in the kitchen - with the food well out of his reach on the worktop - was boring and followed his master back to the parlor. He immediately noticed that the man sitting on the floor was unwell and decided to climb on his lap to comfort him.

Darius was close to hyperventilating.

"Don't worry," Erik said with a soothing tone in his voice as he held out the glass of water, "Beau is neither a pig nor a dog. He is a pug. Pugs are... unique animals. Don't worry, they are surely not impure." He winked at the Daroga, who rolled his eyes and shook his head, but said nothing. The Persian accepted Erik's lie because it calmed darius who dared to pet Beau, much to the pug's delight.

"He's purring like a cat," Darius commented wondering if this was a purr or a growl.

"He likes you," Erik explained.

The pug liked Darius even more as Darius went to the kitchen to prepare tea and continue cooking. He followed the servant as if he had done that a thousand times before.

The Daroga and Erik sat in the parlor.

Erik looked around in the flat. "Nice flat," he said, "Even if it is... too French for my taste. I thought you would go for something more oriental."

The Daroga snorted. "What? With a harem and a torture chamber? No, thank you very much, I am done with Persia. Now I am as Parisian as I can get."

Erik shrugged. "Suit yourself."

"And you, Erik? What are you doing nowadays?"

"I was a contractor once but I am retired. Now I am trying to make Beau happy - and this is a fulltime-job, I assure you!"

The Daroga laughed and shook his head. "You love this lapdog, don't you? Well, you seem to be happy. The way you look at him tells me much."

Erik's eyes became soft. "Yes. Beau turned my life upside down when I found him last winter. I guess he must be about ten months old by now."

"If you are retired, you must have earned much as a contractor?"

Erik snorted annoyed. "Is this going to be an interrogation? Yes, to satisfy your curiosity: I was one of Charles Garnier's main contractors. The opera house. I build it. Well, not alone. But very much of what you see there is my work."

The Daroga relaxed visibly. "That's good to hear. So you kept your promise?"

"I did quite well. Except... well... during the Siege and the Communard's terror... I did what I had to do to survive. Otherwise I was just another contractor, living like so many others from my daily labor. Until I had enough and decided to retire."

"Will you invite me eventually?"

This question had been coming and Erik sighed. Of course. It was custom to thank one for the invitation with another invitation. It was... quite possible. Not his real flat, but the fake one. A basement one-room-flat near the opera house. Why not? He could always claim that he lived rather undemanding because he wouldn't want to be forced to work again in his old age. "Erik Cordier, Boulevard des Capucines," Erik said, "A basement flat, but it is enough for an old bachelor like me." There was a certain bitterness in his voice. He could not hide that he felt he missed something in his life. He never had a wife, never had children. If he had married the age gypsy boys did, he would be a great-grandfather by now, if he had married at a normal age he would be a grandfather now.

A crash from the kitchen brough both men to that room. Darius had obviously fallen over the pug and dropped the food he had been carrying.

While the Daroga was worried about his servant, Erik grabbed the dog before he could eat up all food. "You have to be more careful!" Erik scolded Darius, "You could have hurt my poor Beau and he might have accidentally eaten shards! You have to be more careful!"

"Maybe you take him out of the kitchen," the Daroga suggested.

Erik did and placed Beau on his lap on the couch like a duck takes to water. Erik didn't even consider asking before he snatched a pillow to make Beau more comfortable on his bony legs.

"It seems all these years didn't teach you to ask if you want to use something that isn't your's," the Daroga scolded him.

Erik's eyes grew big. "Don't you want your guests to be comfortable? And isn't Beau your guest?"

"Beau is a pet, not a guest!"

Erik caressed Beau as if he had to comfort him. "My poor cute boy. The Daroga doesn't mean it. He's just his usual grumpy do-gooder self." Beau panted and looked highly pleased.

The Daroga had to laugh. "It seems he twisted you around his little finger... or better, paw."

"Yes he has and **I love it**!" Erik defended himself, "We have to go." He didn't. He just did not want the Daroga to ask him more questions. To his great surprise the Daroga didn't but bid him farewell and as Erik fixed the leash at the dog's collar he noticed that the Daroga noted the name and adress he had given him. He was sure the Daroga would soon show up at his door and excuse himself that it was just a coincidence. Well, why not? There was a normally furnished flat. Erik made a mental note to have some suits and used household items there so it really looked like he was living there and not just using it as entrance to his real home.

On their way back they passed a advertising column and while Beau decided to take his time sniffing around, Erik read the placards. "Take your time," he told the pug, "I like reading the newspaper too." Sniffing a column must be like reading newspapers for a dog.

There was an advertisement for the opera. "Faust" by Charles Gounod, starring La Carlotta, Carolus Fonta and others - and one name burned itself into Erik's eyes. It was just among the supporting cast: "Siebel ... Christine Daae".

"She is a singer..." Erik whispered, "We have to hear her, don't we, Beau?"

 _XXXXXXXXXXXXXX_

 _Thank you for reading and please leave a review!_

 _By the way - some did not get the mail about updated stories lately. I don't know why. I hope you get this and maybe those who follow my other stories: If Love Were A Flower has been updated too._


	8. Chapter 8

**the Pug of the Opera**

Erik did as he had planned and went to see the premiere of "Faust". He wanted to hear Christine Daae, who had impressed him by so lovingly reacting to Beau. Of course Beau was with him again. Beau slept through the first act, acted up when the singer who portrayed Marthe did not hit every note and fartet loudly after Carlotta's jewel song. Erik chuckled as he heared the patrons in the next boxes complain about the smell.

Whatever they thought, by now everyone had to be aware of a dog at the house, visiting various performances. Interesting enough due to the acoustics of the auditorium the managers had not been able to find out where precisely the dog was, they thought someone sitting in the cheap ranks high above had smuggled in the dog - thinking the decent rich patrons who bought boxes would never do such thing. The thought bringing a dog was a prank only lower class people would ever do.

The smell might - or might not - give away the position inside box five. But if enough people complained, they would not know either, thinking it might have been an anarchistic prank some lower class men played on the bourgeoisie.

Christine Daae's performance as Siebel was disappointing for Erik. He had hoped she would sing like she had sung to his pug, full of love and emotion, but she did not. She acted and sung like a perfect tuned automaton, but without any life. Beau waggled his tail and looked up as he heared her, remembering her voice, but he did not act up, Christine sang perfectly in tune. What was wrong with her? Why had she shown so much love when she was cuddling Beau and seemed unable of any feeling now that she was on stage? It was her debut - maybe she was just nervous?

He decided to keep an eye on her and he did. He watched every opera where she had some role to perform. But it was always the same. She got soloist roles, never the leading soprano, but she was good. Very good. Perfect range and pitch, a crystal-clear voice - but she always sung and acted like an automaton. Something was absolutely wrong with her and he decided to find out what that might be.

Erik went to the office and found Christine's address. Now he knew where she lived, he knew her rehearsal schedule and could easily arrange another meeting. He just had to take Beau for a walk at the right time in the right street.

Beau noticed her first and tried to run to her, in his excitement he ran two rounds around Erik's legs, leaving him tangled in the leash. Erik needed a moment to free himself, then noticed people around him were laughing at his mishap. He felt humiliated and ridiculed, but had to admit that he would have laughed at another man's misfortune all the same.

"O Beau!" Christine laughed and went to pet the dog, adding as an afterthought: "Good morning Monsieur Cordier."

Erik could not be angry with her. Of course she greeted the pug first and huddled down to be able to pet the dog. Beau happily began licking her hands, his tail waggling and he gave his stakkato snore indicating he was very happy.

"Good morning Mademoiselle Daae," Erik greeted, "Beau missed you."

"How can he miss me - he has seen me only once?" Christine asked, fending off Beau's attempt to lick her face, but she did not even try to get up.

"He already loves you."

"Then he easily loves everybody!"

"O yes, he does. Mademoiselle, my compliments to your performance in Faust," Erik told her.

Christine blushed and Erik couldn't help thinking how beautiful she looked. She was such a beautiful young woman, with her blonde hair and the dark blue eyes. She turned her attention back to Beau who was by now on his back, enjoying a belly-rub from Christine. She began to sing to to pug again. "Pug-pug-puggy-pug-puggly-puggy-puggy-pug." It was complete nonsense but it made Beau purr happily like a content cat - and Erik wonder how her nonsense-singsong sounded so much better than her aria. It was not the melody, it was not the song itself, it was her voice and all the cheerfulness he heard now from her.

"You have a very good voice," he complimented her, "But... pardon my bluntness... it seems you are over-trained."

She frowned and briefly stopped petting Beau, which caused the pug to jump up and scratch at her, to make sure she would not forget him. She absent-minded begann caressing his soft ears. "What do you mean, 'over-trained'?" she asked, not really understanding what this man was trying to tell her.

Erik sighed. "Mademoiselle, you have a lovely voice, but you sing a bit... like an automaton not like a person. There is nothing of your personality, of your emotion in your performance. You sing like someone trained you that the only thing that mattered was hitting the notes perfectly. You do not allow yourself to... bring something unique into your performances."

Her brows furrowed. "I don't understand..."

"It is difficult to explain, but... I am a musician myself. Maybe you would allow me to... help you become a better singer?"

"Monsieur Cordier, I graduated from the conservatoire the Paris, I already am a singer and... I am a soloist," she told him, a bit offended by his offer, "And I do not think I need you as my singing instructor."

Beau ran under her skirt as she stood up and her legs got tangled in the leash. Erik made a mental note to reward Beau with some extra cheese.

"I did not mean to offend you, Mademoiselle," Erik hastily tried to make up for the lapse, "Certainly not. I just... just wanted... to offer my services for free."

She was obviously mistrustful as she tried to get out of the tangled leash without tripping over Beau who still kept playing with her many underskirts. Erik sighed. "I just want to do something for my dog's bad behavior. Bad Beau! Bad!" The way he said bad convinced Beau that he was doing exactly as his master wanted so he stayed unter Christine's skirts, Erik could not bend down to fetch him and Christine didn't know what to do - she could feel the pug under her wide skirt but didn't know how to get him out there.

Erik finally pulled on the leash, hoping Beau would understand and come. Beau did not, the pug lied down and stubbornly remained where he was. Somehow Christine managed to step back so he was no longer hidden by her skirts. Erik grabbed Beau at his collar and Christine finally managed to untangle the long leash so her legs were free again. "I just want to apologize," Erik offered again, "Please, Mademoiselle. Give me one chance to make up for this."

"You might just send me flowers," she offered, "No need to go through further trouble."

When she continued to walk home Erik looked after her, angry with himself. Of course she was mistrustful. She did not know him, she did not know who he was, if he even was a musician - to her he was just a stranger with a pug and of course she would not risk being alone in one room with him. He would have to do something.

And so he did. He began to train Beau to carry small parcels and leave them where he pointed. The command was "gift". At the command "gift" Beau learned to bring something Erik gave him and place it precisely where Erik pointed. It took months and much patience until Beau finally knew what he had to do, but when he was ready, Erik waited for Christine again in the streets, aware of the stares and whispers and sometimes the unashamed laugh from passers-by. He knew he and Beau were an odd couply and a funny sight.

When Christine came home from her rehearsal, Erik gave Beau a small parcel, pointed at Christine and gave the command "gift". The pug ran towards Christine as fast as his small legs could carry him, dropped the parcel at her feet and ran back to Erik to collect his reward in cheese. Erik put the leash on Beau's collar again, making sure the pug would not run away. After eating the cheese Beau pulled towards Christine again, who stood there laughing, but the parcel left untouched at her feet.

"O Beau," she laughed as she bend down to pet Beau and finally taking the parcel, holding it out to Erik. "I guess this is yours?"

"O no, it is yours!" Erik replied, "Beau just wants to apologize."

"O, Beau wants to apologize," she laughed and opened the parcel. In it was a beautiful brooch in the form of a rose. "That is... that is too much! I can't accept that!" she pointed out as she realized that the jewels were real precious stone and the brooch of real gold.

"Ask Beau if he takes it back," Erik replied with a smile.

Christine laughed. "Monsieur Cordier, you are... unique. I've never seen someone so persistent, it is even flattering me. But you have to understand that I do not need a voice instructor now."

"Mademoiselle, maybe you allow me to meet you at the opera. We could meet early in the morning when no one else is there and I give you the chance to test me. If I can't meet your standards, I'll leave you in peace. If you think I could teach you something, you accept me as singing instructor - and I won't ask any fee at all."

Christine did not like that offer. She did not know what Monsieur Cordier really wanted from her - like all girls she had heared horrible tales of girls being lured in a trap by bad men. She did not like the idea of being alone with him. "No... not the opea. Mother has a music room in her flat, you might come to me." With Mama Valerius and the servants being there she was sure he would never dare to do anything to her. And she was not sure if her unease was justified, he might as well really be just interested in giving her lessons. "But tell me, why do you want to teach me for free?" she asked.

"Because... Beau likes you," Erik offered with an amused smile, "And you have one of the loveliest voices I ever heard."

She laughed. "So Beau picks the pupils for you. You are a strange man, Monsieur Cordier. Very well, make sure to bring Beau to our first lesson, Mama will love him."

"And when will that first lesson be?" Erik asked, not wanting to miss the opportunity that might never come back.

"The day after the premiere of the new production of Aida. Come to Madame Valerius flat at 10 a.m."

"Beau, you remember the date," Erik told Beau who - like always when Erik adressed him - turned his head and waggled his tail as if he had understood what to do.

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 _Sorry for keeping you waiting such a long time. I plan to continue this story, updating irregularily in the future._


	9. Chapter 9

**the Pug of the Opera**

When Erik returned to the flat that was his entrance to the catacombes he found a note in his letterbox, which surprised him. He was absolutely sure that he had paid the rent for this basement appartement, so why would anyone leave a letter? He went inside, locked the door and opened the envelope. The letter was addressed to Erik Cordier and it was written in Farsi.

While Beau occupied the pillow on the narrow bed Erik sat on one of the dusty chairs and read the letter. It was a rather short notice: " _Dear Erik, I tried to visit you several times at various times a day, yet you never seem to be at home. I am worried about you. Please tell me when I can visit you. Yours, Nadir_."

"Damn it, I forgot that I invited Nadir," Erik told Beau, "It seems I simply have to invite him eventually before he becomes mistrustful and tries to find out something about me."

Too late. It was already too late. A knock at the door alerted Erik to a visitor. With a grumble he opened and found the Daroga who grinned at him triumphantly. "Bonjour, my good friend," the Daroga greeted him, "Finally you seem to come home. Where have you been?"

Erik wanted to close the door in the Persian's face and lock him out, but Beau had other plans - Beau happily greeted Nadir and left the flat to do so. Nadir took the pug in his arms and lifted him up much like he would hold an infant. Beau happily began to play with Nadir's beard. Erik saw that he had no choice, he had to allow Nadir in or he could not get Beau back. "Come in," he grunted, sounding much like the warning growl of a vicious dog.

Nadir ignored him, knowing as long as he held the pug in his arms Erik would not do anything against him because he was sure Erik would never risk any harm to befall his pet. So Nadir looked around, sneezed at the dusty air in the basement flat, and sat down on a chair with Beau at his lap. Beau was still busy playing with Nadir's beard, the dog was absolutely fascinated by the fact that Nadir's beard would not come off like Erik's false beard that was part of his every-day-mask for going out. The dog knew that Erik took off his beared at home but had never touched a real beard before.

"What do you want?" Erik asked, crossing his arms before his chest.

"You invited me, or have you forgotten?" Nadir asked back, finally he figured out that the pug would leave his beard as long as the Persian fondled the pug's ears. Beau gave a happy snore-purr.

"It is custom to ask when it would be convenient to come," Erik snapped back irritated.

Nadir nodded. "I assumed that when I found you weren't at home in the last weeks... if you live here at all, Erik, which I highly doubt."

Erik frowned. "I do live here. I just went on holiday..."

"Holiday? YOU? Erik, stop lying to me. I know you do not live here. The dust may come from a lengthy absence, but you do not live here. I do not know what you need this room for, but you certainly do not actually LIVE here."

"I do."

"No you don't. This room lacks everything that makes a room personal. There is a bed, a table, two chairs and a cupboard and yes, a stove. I even see the dusty piano. But you do NOT live here. You want to know what told me that?"

"Enlighten me."

"No books. I can't imagine you living without books."

"I lend them from the library and bring them back after reading. One doesn't need to buy everything," Erik defended himself.

"If you can afford such fine clothing you certainly do not need to live in such poor environment," Nadir shot back, "Stop lying. You don't really live here."

"Look around, everything is covered in pug-hair, of course Beau and I live here!" Erik insisted.

Nadir laughed. "You come here regularly, that much I admit, but you don't live here. I do not know why you need a false address, but rest assured, I will find out."

Erik sighed. "Very well. I do not really live here. I only use this room when I am in Paris and I am very often somewhere else. I have always been one of the travelling people, as you might know."

Nadir accepted this, for now. He had no evidence that Erik was lying again so he did not argue, but both men knew that the Daroga would not give up. He would try to find out more.

"Since your flat is much more comfortable than mine I suggest we meet at your place in the future," Erik suggested.

"With pleasure."

Erik looked at the dirty windows of his basement flat. He would need to get curtains to make sure Nadir would not follow him here and find out that Erik went into his flat and disappeared from there. Using an automaton to sit on the bed was no option, Nadir would soon find out that "Erik" and the "pug" did not move as they should when he knocked the door. Erik was convinced his old friend would not give up spying on him. With a sigh he sat down on the bed. Beau jumped down from Nadir's lap, onto the bed and began scratching at the pocket of Erik's cloak because he knew Erik had cheese for him there.

Erik laughed and used that as a distraction. He gave Beau commands to show off what the pug could do, like sit, fetch and bring something to Nadir, in this case Erik's handkerchief for he had nothing else he could use for showing off this trick.

"Still the same showman," Nadir laughed, "I didn't know you were an animal trainer too."

"I wasn't until Beau showed up. He's a clever boy and needs to be trained and educated because if he gets bored he tends to cause trouble."

"Like master, like man. Or in this case: dog."

"Are you implying that I am up to something not good?" Erik snapped irritated.

"No, I just pointed out that you are usually up to nothing but mischief if you get bored. Being an independent gentleman does not bore you, does it?"

Erik laughed. "No. I finally have enough time for my music. I like composing you know."

"The dusty piano proves that you have another place to compose. Alright, you don't want to share what you are really doing. But why, Erik? Don't you trust me?"

Erik bit his lip. Of course he knew he was indebted to Nadir for saving his life, but he still did not want to tell Nadir the truth. "Very well," he sighed, "I do trust you. It is correct that I don't live here, I usually prefer to stay at a hotel because that's far more comfortable. But a man needs some address to receive his mail, that's why I got a cheap flat. Why waste money on a flat I use only seldom?"

"And... where did you get your money?" Nadir had to ask.

Erik rolled his eyes. "I was a building contractor, I made enough money to live the rest of my life. Don't worry about me."

"If you were a building contractor, what buildings did you build?" Nadir knew that with simple houses one would not become rich enough to retire early like Erik did.

"I build the opera house," Erik replied, "My company was quite large before or I would never have won that contract. They checked if I was able to fulfill the contract, I already had enough workers."

Nadir's eyes widened. "You worked under Garnier? Now THAT explains much. But why did you sell your company? You always loved building, why retire?"

"Because I wanted to concentrate on my music, you mistrustful fool!" Erik snapped, "And now kindly leave me in peace. Please. I am tired of being interrogated when I did nothing wrong. Nadir, you are not my warden, you are not responsible to keep me in line here. I am an honest gentleman now and I do not deserve your mistrust. Kindly leave me alone. If I need something, I will come to you."

Nadir studied Erik for some time, carefully studying Erik's false nose and beard, studying Erik's casual way to play with his pug during their conversation. "You are very lonely, aren't you?" Nadir draw a conclusion, "You need some company. Just know that my door is always open for you - and I will even have cheese for Beau."

The word "cheese" made Beau jump up and rush to Nadir, expecting a treat. Erik laughed. He did not have it in him to disappoint the pug so he reached into his pocket, got out a small piece of cheese and handed it to Nadir. "Here, give that to Beau. You said the word, you have to fulfill your promise."

The Daroga stared at Erik. "This... you don't mean that, do you? You can't let a pug dictate..."

"Just give him the treat," Erik sighed wearily, "or he will be sad. Now look - he already uncurls his tail. You cannot really mean to make him unhappy."

Nadir had to laugh but did as he was told, Beau was so greedy he barely missed Nadir's fingers as he took the cheese. "He trained you well, didn't he? I am glad you have your pug, Erik, he brings out the best in you. I think Beau likes me, doesn't he? Maybe we could have a walk in the park together eventually? Just come to me and then we go for a walk with him together."

Erik laughed. What a clever way to try to manipulate him. Nadir surely had found out Beau was his weakness. "It will be my pleasure."

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 _Thank you for reading and please leave a review._


	10. Chapter 10

**the Pug of the Opera**

Christine Daae did not like the way this Erik Cordier had approached her. She had some admirers, she knew that, but she didn't like what they wanted from her. She was young and innocent, but not blind, so she saw the way men watched the ballet girls do their warm-ups in the Foyer de la Danse. She knew many singers and dancers eventually became mistresses of rich men who became their admirers and patrons. A rich powerful man as an admirer could help the career of any dancer or singer greatly and not just by the better lessons and trainings the rich lover would pay for his favorite muse. These men tended to have some influence and a generous donation to the arts often won better roles than an honest audition could. Many dancers and singers gave in to temptation and committed the sin of becoming a patron's mistress.

Most of the men were already married, but having a dancer or a singer as mistress was somehow accepted in society. Some families even encouraged their sons to have affairs so they could be introduced to the art of love by women of questionable reputation. And ballet dancers and even singers had the questionable reputation of being quite willing to do certain favors to men who helped their careers.

Christine was well aware of that and she was determined never to commit that sin. She was a religious young woman and regarded what many girls did a severe sin she herself would never commit. She was a singer and wanted to win her roles in honest auditions, knowing fully well that she had to be much better than the other sopranos who had patrons who would secretly influence the management. She accepted that disadvantage as the price she had to pay for staying true to her faith.

Being approached by an admirer was nothing she hadn't been through before. She had to admit that this Erik Cordier had the most original ideas. Most men just send flowers, complimented her voice or her beauty, tried to get her into conversation and to a rendezvous. Christine never agreed to any date, never. If someone was too persistent, she invited him to her home, feeling much more save with her Mama Valerius and their servants around. Usually she could trust that Mama Valerius asking the admirers about their knowledge of the bible was enough to drive every man away.

Christine sometimes wondered how easy it was for her to resist the attempts to flirt with her. She wasn't interested in men. Most men were just boring, uninteresting and unattractive. This Erik Cordier was even more unattractive than anyone she had ever seen. He was definitely hidious. Monsieur Cordier was a man of average height, he was scrawny like a man who had just survived typhus. His skin had the sickly color suffering icterus. He had some strands of somewhat oily brown hair and a scrubby beard. The singer could not know that the beard was a false one, as was the slightly hooked nose. She could not know the glasses Erik wore were not real glasses - he didn't need real glasses his eyesight was perfect despite his age - they were just to help keeping the nose and the beard in place to hide his lack of a nose and the deformed lips.

Unlike the usual admirer Monsieur Cordier had used an unique way to approach her with his little pug Beau. Christine liked the pug and found the way Monsieur Cordier treated the spoiled lapdog somehow touched her. She was not afraid of Monsieur Cordier. He was terribly ugly, but Christine told herself that she must not judge him by appearance. She had seen him move about, he certainly was not sick so the risk of catching some contragious disease wasn't high. He might suffer syphilis, but that disease was something she couldn't catch unless she accepted to become his mistress - and she was absolutely sure she would never accept that. Being polite to the unfortunate man was one thing, but she would never let him touch her. Never. If other girls talked about actually feeling desire for a certain admirer Christine didn't understand them. But whatever that desire might be, she knew this man who called himself Erik Cordier would never be able to make her feel that.

He was an odd man and she might have been scared had it not been for the pug. The cheerful beige little dog took away the frightening aura of that man and made him look more like a sad clown with his too large closes hanging from his scrawny body. Like a sad clown masquerading as a scarecrow. She scolded herself for these thoughts, one must not make fun of the misfortune of a man, not even in private thoughts.

Christine was quite sure Monsieur Cordier would in no way be able to teach her anything. He might be a musician - she could not know that - but if he was such a good musician he would really be able to teach her, she would have heared of him as voice instructor. Most singers had a voice instructor and the names of the good tutors were well known among the singers at the opera. They would either be teachers at the conservatoire or private teachers, all of them well known. But Erik Cordier was not a name she had ever heared, not among the singers and not among the other musicians. But she had been taught never to be impolite so she would not turn him down immediately. She decided to invite him to her place, feeling much more safe with her Mama Valerius as chaperone. She would ask him to demonstrate his skills as voice instructor and was quite sure he would soon leave of his own accord rather than suffer the humiliation of making a fool of himself.

Erik was quite nervous when he went to see Christine. He was dressed in his best tailcoat with a formally tied white tie. He did his best putting on the false nose and false beard, nervously checking several times if everything was in place and wouldn't get out of place if he moved or spoke - or sang. He understood that she wanted a demonstration of his skill as a singer and knew he had already won. He might be the ugliest man on earth but his voice was the most beautiful voice on earth. He knew that and his skill as musician gave him great confidence. He knew very well what he could do.

Erik dressed Beau in the pug's tailcoat and put a white collar on. Beau was already used to get dressed, he knew getting dressed meant going for a walk and meeting many people. Beau loved everyone and he loved the attention he got from so many people he met. In that he was the opposite of his master, but the pug didn't care. To him the world was just a place full of fun, nice people, playing and cuddling and of course lots of treats. Beau could not remember any unpleasant experiences, he didn't know that bad people or any danger even existed. He only knew the good things in life. The only thing Beau was scared of was being alone. He could not take that. Fortunately for him Erik never left him alone. Erik had made a habit to leave the doors in his flat open so Beau could follow him everywhere.

Erik arrived at Christine's door early. He did not want to ring and disturb them, he wanted to wait until 10 o'clock so he could ring perfectly punktual. Unfortunately Beau had other plans. Beau could smell that in the flat coffee and cookies were ready and scratched the door and barked, wanting the get in. Soon Erik heared footsteps and a maid opened the door. As the young maid saw him, she let out a yelp and stepped back, shocked by his appearance. Erik felt a pang of pain in his chest. It was humiliating and painful that he was again greeted with disgust. He tried not to show his embarrassement and concentrated on holding the leash of Beau tight so the pug could not just run into the flat.

"Don't you want to bring our guest to the parlor?" Mama Valerius scolded the maid.

The maid stepped away an made a courtsey. Erik took off his hat and hesitantly stepped into the typical upper class flat. Beau didn't even think of any etiquette, he pulled towards the parlor where he could smell the cookies. Cookies! No pug could ever resist cookies.

"Good morning, Madame, Mademoiselle," Erik greeted with a polite bow.

"Good morning, Monsieur Cordier," Christine greeted with a forced smile, "May I introduce you to Madame Valerius? She is like a mother to me." The two women sat on a couch, they had a lounge chair ready for their guest. The parlor was nicely furnished and an upright piano stood in a corner.

"A pleasure to meet..." Erik could not finish the sentence as Beau somehow managed to free himself from his collar and he rushed to jump onto Christine's lap and lick her face with great enthusiasm. "Beau! Stop!"

Christine laughed. Beau looked too cute in his tailcoat and she didn't mind the pug's loving kisses. She took the dog into her arms to hold him. "O Beau, you little scoundrel!" she scolded him lovingly.

Mama Valerius' face lit up. "O my, such a cute dog! I always wanted such pet!" She reached out to pet Beau go graciously accepted her touch.

Erik stood there, feeling absolutely ridiculous and at the same time glad that Beau eased the tension. He slowly went to the two women and waited for their permission to take a seat.

Mama Valerius gestured towards the lounge chair and asked him to sit, offering coffee, tea and cookies. Erik could not eat with the fake beard on so he just thanked them. Beau on the other hand thought cookies were a wonderful idea. Beau jumped from Christines lap onto the table and had already eaten three cookies before Erik could catch him.

"I am so sorry..." Erik apologized. This was bad, really bad. Fortunately for him Christine and Madame Valerius weren't angry with him but laughed. Christine had more than ever the impression that Erik Cordier was just a sad clown. She wasn't scared of him.

"It seems your dog is not well trained," Madame Valerius scolded.

"He is very young," Erik apologized, "And he has never done anything like this before." Of course Erik never had anything edible lying around in his flat, he knew that Beau would eat everything he could get. Erik shifted uncomfortably and put Beau down on the floor, again putting on the collar and the leash, hoping Beau would not be able to escape again. The pug's thick neck made it difficult to really tie him with a collar.

"Mademoiselle... may I give you an example of my skill as a musician?" Erik had absolutely no idea how to keep a conversation going. He wasn't used to that, if he talked to people it was either him acting as entertainer or talking about business. No one ever spend his or her free time with Erik just for fun. Erik wasn't used to conversation for conversation's sake.

Christine nodded, thinking this would be over soon. She did not think he would be better than any other hobbymusician and he would not be able to teach her anything.

Erik handed Christine the leash and asked her to hold Beau so he would not again be able to steal cookies. Christine happily allowed Beau to jump onto her lap again and held im. Beau leaned his head against Christine's breast.

Erik immediately envied the dog who could enjoy himself like this. Erik himself knew he would never know how it felt to be held by any woman. He went to the piano and tried if it was properly tuned. He knew that every singer at the conservatoire had to be able to play the piano to a certain level so he expected Christine to play and keep the piano tuned. He was not disappointed.

Christine and her foster mother more or less waited to be disappointed. Until Erik played a short improvised introduction and began to sing. He didn't use the full power of his voice, it was obvious that he held back because he didn't want to disturb the neighbours. Christine listened, staring at the back of the weird man at the piano. How could such a man possess such a voice? He sang with such ease, his voice made the aria even more beautiful. Christine felt as if his voice reached out to her and touched the core of her soul. She had never heared any voice as beautiful as his. She felt like she heard music for the first time in her life and was absolutely enchanted by the unearthly power of his voice.

Madame Valerius too appreciated good music. She immediately knew talent when she heard it and what she heared now was the greatest musician she had ever had the pleasure to listen to.

Christine immediately agreed to accept Erik as her tutor. Hearing him sing was enough for her to know she wanted to learn from him. Madame Valerius offered payment, but Erik rejected that. He didn't need money, he wanted to teach for the pleasure of beeing allowed to teach a worthy pupil. No one had paid attention to Beau while Erik sang - the pug again climbed on the table and ate all the cookies. Now he sat on the table before the empty plate with his curly tail waggling happily.


End file.
